


saudade

by bughaw



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Hank doesn't handle it well, M/M, Post-Break Up, references to alcoholism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 19:12:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15613056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bughaw/pseuds/bughaw
Summary: "It didn't have to be goodbye, Lieutenant. You know that."Hope is a double-edged sword. It lifts you up and gives you something you really shouldn't cling to.





	saudade

**Author's Note:**

> ive fallen into hell and i cant get out so watch me write all kinds of shit about david cage's ocs

This was just a pit stop. Hank gripped the leather belt that Connor wore and pulled back. He was met with the kind of inertia one would expect from someone who was made from material sturdier than human flesh. Connor had barely budged. His ass was still in an upraised lump staring at Hank in its enormity. Connor’s underwear was white, with a black garter. He shifted, his ass swaying slightly. Hank saw, out of the corner of his eye, Connor’s right elbow. It had landed on the bight yellow rat paper he kept on the floor. That was poisonous, but does it apply to androids as well?

 

“Hey, is that poisonous for you?”

 

“Huh?” Connor grunted. “What’s poisonous?”

 

“Your elbow. Look at it.”

 

Connor raised his right elbow to his face, turning momentarily from the aircon set just above the floor. He regarded it, his led turning yellow for a moment. Hank almost believed he would touch the material and lick it.

 

“No, it’s just sticky.”

 

Hank let his shoulder fall as a sigh escaped him. He pushed aside his chair and got on his knees next to Connor. He put his hands on Connor’s shoulder and pulled. This time, Connor didn’t resist. He sat upright, and when he turned, Hank could see the vibrant blue that tinged Connor’s cheeks. He was smiling at nothing as he leaned into Hank’s side. Hank peeled off the paper and watched as the synthetic skin faded for a bit before forming again. He set the paper down and slapped Connor.

 

A bit of retribution for last time.

 

Connor’s eyes shifted back into focus. Delayed and syrup-slow, so very unlike his usual self, his hand came up to meet his cheek.

 

“Back on earth now? C’mon, go wash it off.”

 

“Huh?” Connor raised his elbow again like he needed a reminder. Splotches of amber still ran up his forearm. His led turned from blue to yellow to blue again. “Oh.”

 

“Come on,” Hank said, and pushed him to his feet. When he let go of Connor, the android only swayed in place. Hank placed his hands on Connor’s shoulders again and guided him through his odyssey to the next door bathroom.

 

Connor stumbled into sea green tiles. Hank watched as he steadied himself, his gaze turned to the mirror. His body stiffened. He did a double take. A triple take. Slowly, he looked at the mirror again. He lurched towards it and planted his hands on either side of it.

 

Hank didn’t know what to make of the situation.

 

“Wow,” he said, elongating the word. Then he gasped. “Lieutenant! Hank! My words are moving faster than my mouth!”

 

He began to giggle, caught himself giggling, gasped, then laughed harder. Hank sighed.

 

“Wash it off, Connor.”

 

He returned to his room and sank back into his chair. This was not supposed to take long. This is just a pit stop. He eyed the aircon. He told Connor it was made before people put regulations on aircon. It must have been, it could make the temperature go threateningly low, so cold it even affected Connor. Hank often kept it on a timer after Connor moved out, set it to arctic right when he needed to wake up for work. He would wake up with no feeling in his extremities, but it did the job and he woke up on time.

 

What would Connor have done if Hank didn’t tell him that? He swiveled around in his chair. Probably stick his head into the mini fridge. He glanced at it. The subtle green beer cans were still on top of it. He took it one that had been snapped open already. He didn’t remember when he’d done that. Tipping the bottle back, he let the last drops fall on his tongue. It was bitter, a drink that bit back. One time Connor tried it, and had listed the components that made up the beer. Hank hadn’t minded then. He supposed he wouldn’t mind it now.

 

There were a few more unopened cans left. He would have drunk it all had Connor not showed up.

 

Glancing up, the clock showed that they were thirty minutes late. They wouldn’t be able to catch Markus’ speech. And Connor was still in the bathroom. Not that Hank minded, but he was sure Connor would. He leaned back in his seat and sighed. The chair was comfortable. But this night shouldn’t be kept waiting. He opened the mini fridge and grabbed a bag of Thirium he had gotten so used to keeping with him. Connor would need to replenish what he lost.

 

Connor wasn’t there when Hank opened the door. He flung open the shower curtain. Nothing. The kitchen was empty and untouched, the dirty dishes and pans festering just the same. The window next to the counter was still in its repaired state. The pizza boxes that stood in uneasy piles and populated the living room were untoppled. Sumo wasn’t in his dog bed. His room was exactly as he left it. Connor could not have left the house without making any noise or mess. That fact fought an uneasy battle with the simple truth that he wasn’t in the house.

 

Hank checked again. The shower curtain remained folded, hiding nothing. The bathtub was empty. He could try contacting Connor. His phone. He whirled around, headed for his room, and hoped he was sober enough to remember how to operate his phone. He stopped. He thought of how Connor looked at the mirror. Double take. Triple take. Like it showed something more than his reflection. Slowly, Hank turned his head to look at the mirror.

 

Connor’s blue tinged face stared back at him. The android was grinning, his led the same color as his cheeks. He waved. Some kind of choking noises left Hank’s mouth.

 

“Connor?!” Hank sputtered. “How the fuck did you get in there?”

 

Connor kept grinning, kept waving. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. From the way his mouth moved, it was like he was saying hello. Elongating the word, artificial inebriation had made him fond of doing so. _Heeeeelloooo._

 

“How did you get in there, Con?” Hank was much calmer now.

 

Connor didn’t stop grinning, but he mouthed his words slowly, as if this was a game.

 

_I. Am. Not. Me._

Hank paused. “What?”

 

Connor repeated.

 

“You aren’t you?”

 

Grinning, he nodded.

 

“How is this happening?”

 

_Words. Faster. Than. My. Mouth._

 

“What?”

 

_Reflection. Slower._

 

“What? Like, you, you the reflection, got left behind?”

 

He grinned even wider. Then, he began to speak.

 

_Time._

 

“Time? Time in a bottle?”

 

_To._

 

“What?”

 

_Say. Goodbye._

 

And before Hank could do anything, he left.

 

“Wait!” Hank shouted into the mirror. He lunged forward, pressing his face against it like he could peer into it and watch Connor leave. He saw nothing but his own reflection. And then, he had an idea. He rushed into the living room. The mirror hung just next to the front door. He ran into it and shouted for Connor. He pressed up his face against it. Nothing.

 

He racked his head. Did any reflective surface count? He peered into window next to the front door. Nothing. He went back to his room. His mirror showed nothing but his reflection. He didn’t have the heart to shout. He sank back into his chair.

 

This was supposed to be a pit stop. Then some snooty party where androids mingled with humans as if the entire revolution hadn’t happened. Maybe some alcohol for Hank and Thirium for Connor right after. One last time. Hank pulled out his phone. Unactivated, it showed his dark reflection. Then he realized. It was a phone.

 

He dialed Connor’s serial number. _Ring._ What was it, like a fast forward kind of thing? Had Connor left already? _Ring._ Or did it go even faster, was he getting senile with his old age? _Ring._ And why did Connor leave him behind?

 

 _“Lieutenant?”_   It was never just _Hank_ anymore with him.

 

“Connor! Hey, what’s happening?”

 

_“What do you mean?”_

 

“I mean, where are you? What just happened, with your reflection and all?”

 

A pause. _“What? I’m at the party, Lieutenant. In fact, you should be here as the representative of the DPD.”_

 

Hank paused. He racked his brain again. “But you were just here. We were supposed to go together.”

 

_“Lieutenant, I…”_

 

“Connor?”

 

_“I can’t do any more pit stops at your home, Lieutenant. There’s no guarantee I can make it anywhere on time. Markus and I, we’ve decided to go together instead.”_

 

“Yeah, but I mean, one last time, I thought. Old time’s sake. Let me say goodbye, at least.”

 

_“It didn’t have to be goodbye, Lieutenant. You know that.”_

 

Hank searched his brain for rebuttals. Proof that something held him back. Something other than himself.

 

 _“Lieutenant?”_   There it was again. Instead of his name.

 

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. Hey, have fun at the party. Take care of yourself, kid.”

 

_“How about you take care of yourself for once, Lieutenant?”_

 

He faked a laugh. It didn’t seem convincing. “Yeah, sure.”

 

_“And please contact me if you need anything. Farewell.”_

 

The phone went dead. He looked at the number pad until it deactivated, and he was left staring at his darkening reflection.

 

Then he put his phone away and sank back into his chair. A peculiar cold breeze tickled the back of his legs. He swiveled around. He forgot to close the mini fridge. And there, in the corner, was another opened can. He took it.

 

He gulped it down in one go.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Come say hi on [twitter](http://twitter.com/bloooie) :)


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